


The Waiting

by spinner33



Series: CM - Season Four [3]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: AU Coda to 4.3 "Minimal Loss", M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 17:24:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4969771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinner33/pseuds/spinner33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Coda to 4.3 "Minimal Loss"  </p><p>This fic was written as part of a Round Robin exchange, and should be considered AU from the other fics.  It is a stand-alone story. </p><p>Hotch is having a hard time dealing with putting Prentiss and Reid in danger.  Particularly Reid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Tomorrow we'll be doing on-site interviews," Hotch said as everyone finally took a chair around the conference table. "I'll give you your assignments tonight so you can get an early start in the morning."

Rossi straightened his cuffs, smoothed his suit sleeves, and raised a brow at Hotch. He didn't like being dragged into a meeting right before end of the shift. Reid sipped at the last remains of his afternoon coffee, not letting a single drop go to waste. He kept his eyes trained on the folders Hotch was sorting through. Three files, four people. Someone was going to have to share. Reid was the quickest to figure this out, and it made him nervous. Prentiss carefully rubbed her note page with an eraser, changing the date at the top. She always wrote the date day first, then month, then year. She was checking her watch again to be sure there was enough time for this. Morgan shifted his feet anxiously under the table, watching the files but not watching the files, doing his best to pretend he couldn't care less which case he got.

"Rossi, you take the West Virginia case. Prentiss? Reid? You two share the Colorado case. Morgan, you get the Maryland case," Hotch said, pushing folders towards them all.

Rossi opened his folder calmly, slowly. Prentiss snapped up the folder the second it hit the surface of the table, drawing it close to herself. Reid pined anxiously, like a puppy denied a treat. Emily set the folder on the tabletop so Reid could read it too. Reid got up on one knee in his chair, sitting on his other leg, so he could see the pages better. Morgan snickered at Reid's anxiousness, taking his own folder and leaning back in his chair comfortably.

"Prentiss? Reid? The jet will be ready at eight a.m. to take you to Colorado," Hotch said to they were flipping through the pages in the folder.

"Yes, sir," Reid nodded.

"Child interviews. Religious sect. Suspected sexual abuse of female teens. Oh no. Not this again. We're going to have to be careful with this one. We've dealt with his type before. We need to play to his ego if we're going to get anywhere. Let's start with all the background we can find on him. We'll contact the Colorado Department of Child Services this afternoon and see if we can get an officer to come with us to the compound," Emily was saying.

"I can do that," Reid nodded to Prentiss's stream of words. Morgan was smirking.

"We need to ask if they have had any previous reports against the group leader, or group members, or if the local police have had any encounters or other run-ins with the cult members."

"Yes, good idea," Reid agreed.

"Can't stay late. I got plans tonight," Derek added as he got up from his chair and prepared to return to his desk. "Sit, stay, beg," he whispered to Reid as he went past him.

Reid acknowledged Morgan's remark with a quick frown and hurt eyes, but the look immediately disappeared when he saw that Hotch was watching their exchange. Reid made his face completely neutral, not wanting Hotch to see him ruffled by the remark. The young man pretended to ignore Morgan, and returned his attention to Prentiss's next command. Derek could not have been more disappointed. He cast his eyes towards Hotch, and the team leader frowned at Morgan. Derek nodded to Aaron and left the conference room. Prentiss continued talking, not missing a beat.

"Let me handle the child interviews. A woman will put the children more at ease. You do the surveillance, the scouting. Learn the lay of the land. Study the interactions between the members. See what you can learn about Benjamin Cyrus, his moods, his methods, his personality," Prentiss said.

"Right," Reid agreed. "That would seem to be a very appropriate division of responsibilities, given our personal strengths."

"Be on time in the morning. Don't make me wait for you," Prentiss scolded, pointing one finger at Reid and giving him the folder.

"I'll be there," Reid promised.

"Gotta run. I have plans tonight too. Don't lose the file," Prentiss said on her way out. Morgan was already running for the elevators. Rossi ambled out of the conference center, nose deep in his folder. He seemed intrigued by his task.

Reid remained in his chair, sitting up on one leg. He placed every single item in the case file out on the table, and inspected them one by one. He was committing details to memory, almost like he was scanning them into his mind. Hotch allowed himself a whisper of a smile as he watched the young doctor working. It was rare that Reid would do this. He had been teased too often for being weird and different, and did not go out of his way to display his talents or his intelligence.

"Do you have plans tonight?" Hotch asked softly.

"Read through the file. Jot down preliminary notes. Contact Colorado Child Services. They're two hours behind us, so someone should be in the office," Reid's voice trailed off slowly. He raised his eyes from the tabletop and gazed at Hotch. He blushed as he realized what Aaron was asking. "No plans," Spencer replied shyly.

"Come over around eight. I'll cook for you. Wear something woolen, with lots of buttons," Aaron murmured as he carried his attaché past Reid's chair. He let one hand linger too long on the doctor's thin shoulder before walking away.

As he opened his office door, Hotch glanced back towards the conference room. Reid was smiling to himself, gathering up the folder contents once more.


	2. Chapter 2

The situation in Colorado became far too real when Benjamin Cyrus uttered the words, "It wasn't us".

Up until that point, Hotch was in control of himself, and in full command of the situation. He could almost imagine this was a very complex training exercise. His team had run scenarios like this before without so much as a hiccup. But now the situation had changed entirely. A horrified shudder ran down Hotch's spine when he heard those words and understood their meaning. Heart in his throat, Hotch couldn't speak. He was grateful that Rossi was quick to respond.

"We need a name so we can inform the family," Dave said.

Hotch's first response to knowing a member of his team could be dead was the keen desire to smash in the face of the state's attorney general. It was that smug, self-serving bastard's fault that Hotch's agents were in this predicament. He had thought that looking tough on crime would boost his ratings in the upcoming election. However, his ill-conceived and poorly-executed police raid had cost the life of one of the state child interview agents. Unfortunately, both Prentiss and Reid has been posing as state agents in order to enter the compound.

The acid in Hotch's stomach was churning wildly. He had been relatively calm up to this point, but now he was battling a gnawing fear which threatened to consume him. Waiting for Cyrus's response to Rossi's question was tearing Hotch up inside. What angered Hotch even more than the jackass state's attorney general was knowing that the idiot had played right into Benjamin Cyrus's desire for media attention and martyrdom. Cyrus knew he could control the FBI negotiators with fear, and making them wait amplified their fear. Staying in control got Cyrus off.

As everyone waited for Cyrus's reply, the team members glanced at each other, and then away. Rossi might have been thinking about his last conversation with Prentiss at the office before she had headed to the airfield. Morgan looked mournfully at Hotch, guilt in his eyes over the way he had teased Reid during the case assignment meeting. They were all lost in their own private thoughts, no one more so than Hotch himself.

There were so many reasons why Hotch should never have gotten romantically-involved with Reid. All those reasons washed over him now: Spencer was a co-worker, his subordinate agent, a young man with deep-seated abandonment issues, and a need for approval from older, male authority figures. Hotch chastised himself internally. Why had he been so weak? Why had he allowed himself to develop these feelings? Was it need? Was it lust? Could it be love? Could it be madness?

His mind dwelled on his evening with Reid, their date the night before Spencer's departure for Colorado. 'Date' was too polite a word though. Aaron had been preparing dinner, dicing tomatoes, when there had been a knock at the door. It was almost exactly 8 o'clock. He glanced at the oven timer before dashing from the kitchen. Ten minutes until the perfect spanakopita would be ready.

Hotch had raced to pull open the front door, as giddy as a youngster at the prospect of who waited on the other side. Reid had stood there only long enough that Hotch could admire his charcoal sweater. Mmm. Plenty of small buttons to undo. Hotch enjoyed the patience and self-denial that buttons required. Reid was holding a bottle of wine. Hotch smiled invitingly, pushed the door open wider, and started to speak. There had been a beautiful twinkle of mischief in Spencer's eyes. Reid leapt at Hotch – literally leapt at him! The wine had made it safely into a chair in the living room, somehow. They had barely made it to the bedroom.

After they had wrestled out of their clothes and devoured each other in bed, they laid intertwined, catching their breaths. A survey of the scene made Hotch grin. Their clothes were tossed between the front door and the bedroom. Reid's shirt had been hanging off of one wrist. His sweater had been pulled off over his head, and the buttons had remained intact. The two men were nestled tight together, breathing hard, giving off radiant heat.

Aaron was buried inside Reid's pliant body, holding his thin wrists above his head while sucking a dark mark into the spot between his neck and shoulder. Hotch was lost in sensory overload, overwhelmed with the taste and scent and feel of his lover. When Reid had lifted his hips a fraction of an inch, Hotch realized he was probably crushing Spencer under his weight. He rubbed the tip of his nose gently to Reid's cheek as he balanced on his arms and slowly slid out of him. A kiss against bare skin, the dart of a tongue to lick away a bead of sweat, had brought words tumbling from Reid's parted lips.

" 'Love is merely a madness, and I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do, and the reason why they are not punish'd and cured is that the lunacy is so ordinary that the whippers are in love too'."

Reid's words rolled back to Hotch now. It was a quote from Shakespeare from As You Like It. The words had been Reid's way of drawing his mind back to where he was, clearing his thoughts of lust and need, perhaps even of mocking his own foolish, romantic weaknesses. Spencer must have had doubts too about what they were doing, whether they should be doing it. Hotch could hardly fault Reid for his doubts when Aaron had them too.

In the here and now, in this make-shift headquarters outside a dusty compound, Hotch thought again about those words that Reid had whispered. Aaron thought about his agent, his friend, his lover being in harm's way. There were times when Hotch hated this job, hated that it meant he must send his team into situations where they might be hurt, or even killed, hated that each and every one of his team would follow him in whatever he commanded. No one should ever be asked to send their loved ones into harm's way. Although his team had trained for such emergencies, and they knew how to handle themselves, it made Hotch ache to know that all he could do at this point was have faith in his team.

Prentiss was too much like Hotch in many ways, and Aaron believed that was why Reid felt so comfortable following her lead. She was strong, authoritative, capable of fighting her way through adversity, willing to 'take one for the team' if it got the job done. True, she had not gone into this case knowing what would be eventually asked of her, but she would still have eagerly agreed to walk that thorny path of self-sacrifice in order to resolve the case.

Hotch wasn't fooled for one second that Reid had taken a subordinate role to Prentiss because he was too submissive. Spencer was meek and docile only up to a point. In contrast to Prentiss's façade of strength, Reid at first appeared to be feckless and vulnerable. It was part of his plan. Reid was most dangerous once he had you convinced he was totally harmless, because you let down your defenses around him then. All the while, he studied you for weaknesses he could exploit. Once he knew your worst weakness, Reid dominated with frightening ease, and turned the tables in order to bend you to his will.

Prentiss and Reid were opposites and equals, and worked so well together. They were fully suited to the task they had taken on. Hotch thought to himself not for the first time that Emily and Spencer would have made a terrific romantic couple. Also not for the first time, jealousy and possessiveness welled up in his heart. He dismissed the thought again, pushing it away as he snapped his arms up off the table and made himself focus once more. Even if that task had mutated before their very eyes, his agents would adapt.

Hotch had to have faith in his team. Prentiss and Reid would get out of this. They would. "She was Nancy Lund," Benjamin Cyrus replied finally.  
Hotch exhaled without realizing he had been holding his breath. Rossi and Morgan were equally relieved, and then felt equally as guilty as Hotch did, knowing now they had the unenviable task of informing Nancy Lund's family of her death.


	3. Chapter 3

"I can't believe this guy," Hotch said to Rossi, his dark eyes narrowing. His angry words were a result of the bile on the back of his tongue.

"Fried chicken with all the fixins. Fixins?" Dave repeated quietly to himself as if amused by a private thought. Hotch was in no mood to be amused though. "I'm sure if Reid was out here, he could give us a complete and thorough breakdown of the psychological reasons why the use of the word 'fixins' tells us all we need to know about Benjamin Cyrus's state of mind."

Hotch snorted in agreement and annoyance.

"If they're self-sufficient for energy and food, why does he want us to bring them dinner?" Dan, one of the local liaisons, asked. Hotch knew, but he let Rossi reply. Hotch had wanted Rossi as the lead negotiator because this was what Dave did so well, and Aaron didn't want to take a moment of the focus away from Rossi.

"He's testing us. He wants to see how far he can push us with his requests," Dave replied.

"If I didn't think it would cause mass panic inside there, I would order snipers to every high point, and have them take that bastard out with the first available shot," Hotch muttered.

"Yeah, I hear you, but you'll notice he's staying away from the windows, isn't he?" Dan joked.

Rossi moved closer to Hotch as Dan pretended to be deeply engrossed in the yellow pages he was flipping through, presumably for the phone number of a good local chicken dinner restaurant.

"He's going to be all right, Aaron," Rossi murmured. One firm hand landed briefly on Hotch's shoulder before Dave turned and headed out the door of the make-shift headquarters. Hotch closed his eyes, gave up a deep sigh. Rossi hadn't said 'they', and he hadn't said 'she'. He wasn't talking about Benjamin Cyrus either. Rossi had chosen his words carefully, and he had cut through to the heart of Hotch's anxiety. Rossi had read Hotch so easily it was almost embarrassing. Dave read the anger on top of the surface, and clear through the concern in between, right down to the horrible aching fear and desperate helplessness underneath.

'He's going to be all right.'

Hotch couldn't close his eyes without seeing Reid's face. He could not push away the terrible fear that he might never get to hold Spencer close again. If Benjamin Cyrus laid one hand one Reid, there wasn't going to be a single rock in this barren landscape where the psychopath could hide from Hotch.

The food was delivered to the on-site headquarters in amazing time. The local officers and the BAU team set about at once, slipping bugs into tight places in the containers where they would never be found.

"We need to get a message to Reid about when to expect us," Rossi said.

Hotch spotted the red lettering on the top of the round, silver lids, and he picked one up, jotting down 'Open until 3 a.m.' He showed this to Rossi, who nodded his approval.

"Let's just hope it's that easy," Dave breathed.

Hotch scrawled the same words on every lid top until he had covered each one. As the rest of their group was fitting the lids back onto the containers, Hotch's hand fell on one of the bags filled with dinner rolls. The rolls were soft and warm, and when Aaron picked up the rumpled bag, he could feel tiny containers of butter shifting around inside, made malleable because of the heat from the rolls. The smell was intoxicating.

Hotch paused briefly before pouring out the bag's contents onto the table, picking up a pencil, and sticking his hand inside the bag, near the bottom. He only had a few seconds, but that was all he would need. He carefully wrote the words: I Can't Wait to Kiss You.

Reid wouldn't be the first to take a roll from the bag, Hotch knew. Spencer would wait until others had taken what they wanted, and he would be the last to put his hands inside the bag. Spencer would then undoubtedly see the words, and recognize Aaron's handwriting.

Hotch carefully returned the butter packets and the dinner rolls inside the simple paper bag. He felt like his heart was stuffed inside as well as he gave the bag to Rossi, who had volunteered to help take the food inside the compound, to continue to build trust with Benjamin Cyrus. Dave was no fool though – he could sense Hotch's reluctance to release that particular bag from his grip. Rossi was grim-faced and nervous, but he understood that Hotch wanted that bag to get as close to Reid as possible.

When Rossi returned from the compound, Hotch was waiting outside the headquarters, watching the stars above. Aaron was anxious for any news, good or bad. Rossi was glad to deliver good news, because it would ease the tension in Hotch's demeanor.

"Mission accomplished," Rossi reported with a thin smile, serious but hopeful. "Reid got your bag, and he got your message too."

"How can you be sure?" Hotch wondered nervously.

"He walked around giving people rolls from the bag until they were all gone, then he bundled the bag into his pocket."

"Did anyone see?"

"Not with Reid's sleight of hand abilities," Dave promised with a small chuckle. "Besides, I was keeping Cyrus busy."

"I don't know how you can do it," Aaron whispered in amazement. 

"Do what?" Rossi asked.

"Talk to Benjamin Cyrus without wanting to put your fist through his face," Hotch murmured, his usually- deep anger barely kept under the surface.

"What makes you think I don't want to punch him?" Dave confided. "Reid was sticking close to Cyrus without looking too obvious. He's working on Cyrus, watching and waiting, taking the measure of the man. You can see the wheels turning in those eyes of his. If we can buy them enough time, Prentiss and Reid are going to solve this situation from the inside. I've got a good feeling, Aaron. We have to have faith in them."

For the first time in days, if only for a moment or two, Aaron began to feel better. Perhaps this situation wasn't as hopeless as he feared.


	4. Chapter 4

Even after the case was resolved (though not in the manner that Aaron would have liked) Hotch was not yet done with the night. As team leader, he had additional responsibilities to tend to, beyond the final reports, and beyond supervising the collection of evidence from the crime scene. He had a team to look after, had to make sure they were going to be all right. He couldn't have rested now even if he wanted to. He was too keyed up, too anxious. He wisely took the precaution of visiting Prentiss's room first, to confirm she was taking the case in stride.

Prentiss opened the hotel room door after a small but appropriate pause. She had an ice pack balanced on top of her head. In her free hand, she was carrying a tumbler of clear alcohol with a speared olive in it. Hotch smiled as he wondered if Emily carried a jar of speared olives in her suitcase. Emily was not the sort who was going to open up right away and admit when she was hurt. She would retreat even further behind her defenses if you pressed her, so Hotch knew he had to be careful. Emily reluctantly motioned Hotch inside the room, but left the door ajar, a signal she wanted him to leave soon. As she walked back over to the bed, she pulled the ice pack off the top of her skull and rested it over her eye.

"I'll be brief," Hotch promised.

"Bet your ass, you will," Prentiss sighed, lying back against the bed. Hotch smiled again. He couldn't help it. Emily was bruised and battered physically from the beating she had taken. More than that, she was tired. But she didn't seem to need the reassurance he thought she might have needed. Above all, Prentiss was exuding annoyance.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Hotch asked solicitously.

"Make sure Reid is okay," Emily murmured tiredly. She sounded as if that might not have been her first tumbler of the evening. He might have to have one of those later himself too. 

Seeing that church go up in a ball of red and orange fire, and not knowing where Morgan and Reid were, had been beyond terrifying. For the space of a few seconds, Hotch and Prentiss had stood motionless before the inferno and held their breaths. Hotch was debating running into the maelstrom, and Prentiss was too, he knew it.  
Morgan and Reid had finally come stumbling out, looking like chimney sweeps after an eighteen-hour shift.

Hotch hadn't been sure whether to laugh or cry. Prentiss had staggered forward and hugged Reid for the longest time, mumbling in his ear, petting his hair, stroking his back. Hotch wished he too could have thrown his arms around Reid that way, that he could held him there in public in front of everyone. He wished he could have been reassured by the feel of Reid in his arms, living and breathing even if slightly- smoky smelling. It would not have been appropriate though, and Hotch was nothing if not appropriate.

"I'll check on Reid next," Hotch promised. Prentiss pulled herself back into a sitting position, staring at Aaron.

"I mother him too much, don't I?" Emily winced. 

"We all do," Hotch admitted.

"Spencer must resent it on some level. He's a grown man. We shouldn't be treating him like a child," Prentiss chided herself as she shook her head. "The look he gave me. Oh, Hotch. He must be furious. But I didn't have a choice. Cyrus was holding a gun to Reid's head, and the words were out of my mouth, and Reid was looking at me like 'What the hell are you doing?' Hotch, I did not mean to undermine his ego or his pride. Don't get me wrong. I'd do it all again. I was not going to sit there and watch Cyrus shoot Reid. But he must be so pissed at me."

"I understand why you did what you did. So does Reid, I'm sure. But this isn't about Reid. It's about you. I'm here to make sure you are okay. Tell me how you are."

"I'm fine."

"Bruised. Beaten."

"Oh, please. I get more bruises than this in Morgan's self-defense classes." 

"Depressed. In shock?"

"I'm fine," Prentiss repeated more firmly. Her voice had a tone of finality to it. Hotch knew then that he wasn't going to get any further behind her defenses tonight.

"You sure you don't need anything?" Hotch asked softly, patting her on the shoulder. She took a sip from her tumbler.

"All I want is some peace and quiet, a little solitude. Some aspirin. Eight hours of uninterrupted sleep," Prentiss said as she stood from the bed, and pushed Hotch gently but firmly towards the door.

"Good night then," Aaron murmured.

"Good night, sir," Prentiss said as he stepped back into the hallway and she waved him on. She peered around the corner of her door and watched him knocking at Reid's door. Aaron stopped knocking and gave Emily a sheepish look. "Go easy on him," she whispered.


	5. Chapter 5

Hotch knocked again on Reid's door, and waited nervously in the bright hallway. The lights above Hotch bore down on him with accusation. His heart was in his throat. Would Reid even answer? Hotch was breaking the rules. They had talked about this before. They had decided they would not, could not, be together while they were working, while they were on cases, when and where the other members of the team might see. But Hotch needed to see Reid. He needed to hold him. He needed him. Hotch was so grateful for the convenient excuse of having to evaluate and debrief Reid.

"He's in the shower," Prentiss called out in quietly. "I can hear water running. Give him a minute or two."

"Thanks," Hotch whispered back. Prentiss shook her head again. Hotch glanced at his watch – it was almost eleven.

"Good night, Mother," Prentiss mused, closing her door.

Spencer finally opened his door. He stood there frowning, wrapped in a thin robe. His hair was limp and all down in his face, and he was dripping water everywhere. Hotch lit up with warmth and amusement as he watched the droplets that raced down those long legs and pooled on the floor. Reid's robe was almost indecently short, considering how much bare leg was visible. There were traces of soap suds on the tops of his feet. Reid smelled like a bed with fresh, clean sheets, and Hotch could hardly wait to climb inside.

"I don't mean to intrude, Reid, but…" Hotch rushed through the words. He heard Prentiss snickering softly, and glanced back towards her room.

"No. It's okay. I should have expected you. The standard psychological evaluation after a stressful case? You're here to make sure I'm not going to open my veins in the shower, or drown my sorrows in the entire contents of the mini-bar?" Reid murmured.

Hotch was almost put off by the business-like tone, but then he realized that the doctor had heard Prentiss's soft laughter, and had responded accordingly, knowing their conversation was being overheard.

"You know the drill, soldier," Hotch said grimly.

"If I swear I'm okay, can we do this tomorrow?" Reid squirmed, tugging the end of his robe down, bringing Hotch's eyes up and down his legs again. Aaron's boxers got tighter as he thought about being between those long limbs, feeling them wrapped around his hips.

"No," Hotch replied.

Reid wailed loudly, "Hotch, I'm butt-naked, and I have soap in my eyes!" 

"I promise I won't take long," Hotch said.

"Will you take off points if I say no?" Reid persisted. 

"Yes, I will."

"Bully," Reid frowned. Hotch glowered at him. Was Spencer going to leave Aaron in the hallway much longer? "Wait here. I need to rinse off and get dressed," Reid muttered, leaving the door open. Hotch watched Reid cross the hotel room and vanish into the bathroom. He unconsciously licked his lips, then darted his eyes back at Prentiss's door, glad to hear it finally close. Only next, Morgan's door across the hall popped open. Derek's head appeared briefly.

"He's right. You are a bully. Keep your voices down," Morgan muttered sleepily before closing and locking his door again. It was clear the walls in this hotel were thinner than paper! Hotch stepped inside Reid's room and closed the portal.

"Reid, I'm waiting," he called out.

"I can't hear you," Reid called back over the noise of the shower running. What in the world was taking so long?

Hotch glanced around the room. No signs of alcohol consumption. No signs of razor blades. No signs of drug paraphernalia. There was, however, the unmistakable scent of butter. Aaron's eyes darted around again. There on the nightstand was a fragment of a paper bag, a rough square around his words written in haste. The torn piece of bag stained with melted butter. Hotch bit back tears and a soft chuckle as well.

Spencer returned eventually. All traces of soap were gone. He was dressed in boxers and pulling on a teeshirt, hiding his wet head under the cover of a stark, white towel. There were horrible, black and red bruises on his ribs and across his chest, which he was hastening to cover. Aaron gasped out when he saw the marks. He was across the room in three steps. He slipped his hands under Reid's teeshirt and pulled it northward again, running his fingers and palms gently against Reid's ribs. The towel slipped off Reid's wet head and onto the bed. His hair looked frazzled and singed in places. His ear tips looked pink around the edges, so did his forehead.

"That son of a bitch. My poor baby," Hotch whispered. Aaron regretted the words the second they left his mouth, because Reid narrowed his amber eyes and gave a tight smile.

"Aaron Hotchner. I am not a child," Reid growled. Hotch touched Spencer's mouth with one finger to hush him, and then pressed his lips there, sweet, slow pressure, swallowing the gasp of surprise he had elicited from Reid.

"Do you…" Reid tried to ask again. Hotch eased him back against the bed behind him, and turned off the bedside lamp.

"Shh," Hotch scolded tenderly, nuzzling and nibbling at Reid's full mouth while leaning over him on all-fours. Reid was crossing his eyes at Hotch in mock annoyance.

"But.."

"Shh." 

"Hotch…" 

"Shhh."

"I'm okay."

Reid got the words out, but only barely before Hotch was sucking his mouth with another kiss, easing his tongue inside, brushing the tip of Reid's tongue. Spencer gave up attempting to talk, and he kissed Hotch back, putting his arms up around Hotch's shoulders.

"Let me be the judge of that," Hotch crooned, pushing Reid's boxers down his thin hips, down his legs, past his knees, moving down between Spencer's knees, kissing along his chest, over his bruised ribs.

"I'm fine," Reid sighed. "Leave the lights on," he pleaded.

Hotch shook his head no as he was nosing and kissing his way across sweet, clean skin, licking, tasting, touching. He wanted Spencer naked, but more than that he wanted him close and safe. The insanity of the last couple days was settling in the base of Hotch's spine, making him shake, making his heart race.

"Not to spoil the mood, but do you know how many random body fluids are present on the average bedspread in the average hotel room at any given moment?" Spencer asked, gasping softly as Hotch's tongue traveled along his length and back again. He squeaked in surprise when Hotch picked him up off the bedspread and pulled the covers down in one forceful tug. Aaron placed Reid down on the sheets and climbed over him, looming.

"Better?" Aaron rumbled. He didn't wait for an answer before he grabbed Reid's hips. Spencer tilted his head back and banged his skull against the headboard. Hotch sucked on a couple fingers and pushed his hand down between Reid's legs, only to have his first exploratory touch against Reid's entrance slid in without resistance.

"Unhmmm," Reid gasped, biting his lip to keep quiet. He had prepared himself beforehand – he was already slickened and stretched and waiting. That's why it had taken him so long to dry off and dress. Aaron was overwhelmed with the mental image of how Reid must have looked doing that. He wished he could have watched. He continued stroking inside Reid, delighting in the way he was making those long legs shiver.

Hotch undid his buckle and zipper, wriggled out of his clothes with Reid's eager help. They moved together, and Hotch slid inside Reid in one easy thrust.

"F..f…f…ahh..mmmnnh…" Reid was struggling to breathe and talk at once. He buried his nose in Hotch's neck, clutching around his shoulders, fingers digging painfully into Aaron's back.

"Can I move?" Aaron whispered in Reid's ear. Spencer shook his head no emphatically. "Why not?" Aaron teased. He grasped around Spencer's thin form and pulled him downward, because he was crawling up and back. Reid emitted a low groan, full of gravel and need. He dug in tighter on Hotch's back.

"….too soon… no…gonna…." Reid whimpered. 

"Go slow?" Hotch asked playfully.

"Mmmm hmmm," Spencer whimpered. "Wanna…wanna feel you….not too fast…."

"I'll go slowly," Hotch promised. Long arms unfolded. Long legs clutched Hotch's hips. Aaron tentatively eased out of Reid, slowly back in again. Reid whined, and Hotch nuzzled his nose, moving in and out again a little more forcefully. Searching fingers found Hotch's shoulder and caressed his face. Hotch turned his head to one side and kissed those searching fingers, sucking gently on slender fingertips, moving again. "Is that okay?" he whispered, nipping at Reid's closest ear.

Reid made an indiscernible sound – somewhere between ecstasy and pain. His thighs tensed, moved with a tease of friction and tickle of body hair against Hotch's sides. Hotch stroked Spencer's lank, wet hair, and began to set a gentle pace, working his lover towards his release, knowing by the way Reid was whimpering that he was having a hard time holding himself back.

"…is…is perfect….thank you, missed you, love you ….. ohhh," Spencer babbled. He gasped a second later when he realized what he had said, and he started panting, almost in a panic. Aaron nuzzled Spencer's neck, holding onto him for dear life.

"I missed you too," Aaron whispered. "Here? Is that okay?"

"There…. oh, there….yes…..yes….." Spencer came alive, hips bucking, throat tight as he struggled not to cry out. "Need you. Need you. Hotch…." he whined against Aaron's neck.

"Love you… love you…" Hotch chanted softly with each thrust, not caring that the headboard was crashing rhythmically into the wall adjoining the next room, not caring, not caring at all, because he had Spencer in his arms, and he was making Spencer feel good, making him make all those special sounds that had haunted Aaron these last few days, those sounds and these feelings, these sensations he feared he would never feel again. Long fingers and strong hands and long legs pulled and clutched at Hotch in anxious need. Tears welled in Hotch's, and he hid them in Reid's shoulder, hid them in his wild hair, hoping Spencer might mistake them for sweat instead of tears. He bit down hard, hoping to quell the sobs rising in his chest.

Hotch had just enough coherent thought remaining to start to care when he heard Reid take a deep breath. He barely had enough time to clamp a hand over Spencer's mouth before a full-throated scream would have emerged which would have probably awakened half the hotel floor. Spencer convulsed with pleasure beneath him. Talon-like fingers clawed him. Sharp hip and rib bones gouged him. Teeth clenched into his hand. Hotch came with a muffled scream as well. He let go of Reid's mouth, but held him tight as he panted against his neck.

"Love you," Aaron whispered again, tracing his nose to Spencer's burning hot ear. 

" 'Oh my God. It's full of stars'," Spencer drawled as he panted heavily.

Hotch laughed softly, nuzzling Reid's salty skin. A strange quote. He would have to find it later. Arthur C. Clarke?

"You're welcome," Aaron rumbled. Hotch was rewarded with a languid smile from Reid. He raised a hand and pushed Spencer's ruined hair out of his face.

"Does this mean I passed your evaluation?" Reid wondered, shifting himself slightly in order to turn on the light. Hotch rolled to one side and caressed the flushed skin of one shoulder, continuing to nuzzle and to kiss. He laughed to himself that wasn't it just like Reid to want a grade at the end of any performance, even one in bed.

"I believe my subject needs further observation," Hotch toyed tenderly. 

"I beg your pardon?" Reid was not in amused in the slightest.

"Prentiss said I should watch you. She's worried you feel guilty because of how she saved you from being shot."

Reid's expressive eyes centered on Hotch's face, battling between amusement and wounded pride. 

"You certainly aren't pulling any punches, are you?"

"It's my job to evaluate you. To probe and to prod."

"Are you asking if it's a problem that Prentiss has bigger balls than me?" 

"I wouldn't have phrased it quite that way."

"Yes, it does bother me sometimes. But in that situation, I understood what Prentiss was doing. My main fear was that she was going to get herself shot. Cyrus made no secret of how much he hated strong women. I doubted he would miss the opportunity to take out his frustrations against a strong woman who didn't fall into the submissive role he demanded from the females he surrounded himself with – silent, meek, worshipful, and obedient."

"She's worried she bruised your ego. Talk to Emily. Reassure her everything is fine. Work this out between yourselves," Hotch ordered, caressing Reid's cheek, stealing another kiss.

"I'm surprised you aren't more concerned about Emily's need to put herself in harm's way, to sacrifice herself, as though she's feeling guilty. This isn't the first time. It's almost like she's seeking punishment for past transgressions."

Hotch paused and stared Reid in the face again. "I did notice."

"Either punishment or absolution," Reid continued as he narrowed his eyes.

"I noticed," Hotch said again. Spencer offered a small smile, backing down. He tucked himself against Aaron's chest and circled his waist with both arms. Hotch hated himself the moment the words were on his lips. "I should leave."

"You can leave in a minute," Reid sighed, holding tight. "Let me memorize you first."

"I can't stay, Baby. I wish I could, but I can't. I have to get dressed," Aaron murmured, stroking Spencer's hair.

"I know," Reid said. He didn't loosen his grip though. His mouth curled into a half-smile, and he rolled Hotch gently onto his back, balancing himself on all-fours over Aaron. Hotch gazed up at Reid. 

"I'm…I need to…" 

"You need to leave. I know," Spencer sighed.

"I wish I could stay," Hotch murmured, petting Reid's hair, tucking it behind one ear.

Reid smiled. "You and I both know there are three profilers out there, lying awake in bed, waiting to hear your bedroom door close. You better scram."

Spencer rolled back, then slid under the sheets to conceal his nakedness. He watched with regret and longing in his eyes as Hotch reached for his rumbled clothes to pull them on. Aaron decided he could shower once he was back in his own room. Now that he had been dismissed though, Hotch was reluctant to leave.

"Talk to Emily tomorrow on the plane," Hotch repeated, pulling on his shirt, fumbling with the buttons. His eyes landed on his butter-scented note again. Reid followed those dark eyes, and smiled.

"Yes, sir. I will," Reid promised. "Very risky, that," he added.

"I wasn't thinking. I know I shouldn't have done it," Hotch sighed. Reid reached over and picked up the scrap of paper, caressing it with his fingers, touching it to his nose, holding it tightly in his hand.

"I'm glad you did it," Reid confided, a happy smile curling his lips sideways.

Hotch almost tripped as he stepped into his far-flung shoes. He rushed back to the bed, and grabbed Reid in both arms. He settled their mouths together for one final kiss for the night. They would both be counting the hours until they could be together again.

**Author's Note:**

> A previous version of this story was submitted in 2012 for the Round Robin story with IKYUD, but the Round Robin story was never published. Thank you to Mary for very constructive criticism! :)


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